


I'm In Trouble Deep

by Arabwel



Series: Papa Don't Preach [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Bondage, Both parties enjoy this, Breeding, Come Marking, Crying, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, Hair-pulling, I am probably forgetting something, Loss of Control, Loss of Virginity, No Underage Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Proceed with caution, References to Incest, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Sexist Language, Size Kink, Table Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Verbal Humiliation, because Chris is a bad man, despite the impaired consent, references to allydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9472448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: There’s more than wolfsbane growing around the hut, but nothing unfamiliar or dangerous, as long as they avoid the poison ivy curling along the south wall.  The mushrooms nestled between the plants are lycoperdon, of all things, and one breaks under his boot releasing spores when he steps forward.Chris barely manages to stifle a sneeze; behind him, Lydia fares much worse, sneezing twice in a row and he turns towards her to see if she’s okay.Lydia is staring at him intently; Chris swallows, suddenly uncomfortably hot under the collar.“What are you waiting for?” She asks, head cocked to the side to bare her pale, delectable neck “Let’s go in.”****Chris and Lydia encounter sex pollen and things take a dark turn





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Triangulum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/gifts).



> Thank you to everyone who made this fic happen, but especially Triangulum <3 
> 
> This is... probably the single filthiest thing I've ever written in my life and that's saying a lot. 
> 
> Please note that although both parties are affected by the sex pollen and driven to the act, there is a definite vibe of Chris being the aggressor and Lydia the victim. I have also elaborated on the references to allydia and incest in the end notes. 
> 
> If you want something else tagged or want to ask questions before reading just let me know <3

Chris leads the way as they walk through the woods in companionable silence. It is in part because he is a hunter, at home in the wild, and in part because he’s honest enough to admit his eyes would stray if he’d have to spend an hour trekking behind Lydia Martin clad in a too-short skirt. 

At least she’s wearing appropriate footwear, he thinks ruefully as they round the bend and catch sight of their goal; an old hunter's’ hut, still standing despite having been abandoned for decades. It’s exactly where Peter - and the old maps at the library - had said it would be. Somewhere in there, Talia Hale has hidden something important. 

Chris eyes the hut critically; just as Peter had said, there’s wolfsbane in rows that are unkempt but too straight to be natural around it. The wood looks like it could have been mountain ash at one point, hard to say with how weathered it is but it’s clear why this had been the location warded against wolves. 

But not banshees, if their hunch about who had helped Talia here was correct. In fact, Chris would not be surprised if having Lydia _Martin_ along would be crucial. 

There’s more than wolfsbane growing around the hut, but nothing unfamiliar or dangerous, as long as they avoid the poison ivy curling along the south wall. The mushrooms nestled between the plants are lycoperdon, of all things, and one breaks under his boot releasing spores when he steps forward. 

Chris barely manages to stifle a sneeze; behind him, Lydia fares much worse, sneezing twice in a row and he turns towards her to see if she’s okay. 

Lydia is staring at him intently; Chris swallows, suddenly uncomfortably hot under the collar. 

“What are you waiting for?” She asks, head cocked to the side to bare her pale, delectable neck “Let’s go in.”

The tilt of her hip brings back a memory, of that time he’d walked straight into Allison’s room and Lydia had draped herself on his daughter’s bed, all sultry looks and coy _“Hey Mr. Argent!”_ , a coquettish flirtation that didn’t mean anything and yet made him very aware of her charms. 

Christ, it’s been far too long since he was with a woman if these are the thoughts he’s entertaining; no matter how short her skirt or red her lips, this was one of his daughter’s friends, not some random girl at a bar. 

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, voice gruffer than he intends. “Watch where you step.”

The vegetation crunches under his boots as he makes his way to the door of the hut; it’s hanging on a single hinge and swings aside easily, confirming that the hut is unoccupied by both people and wildlife. A quick glance to the rafters confirms that there’s no owls or bats, but the lack of droppings on the dusty floor made that unlikely anyway. 

There’s still a few pieces of furniture left; a three-legged stool, a half-collapsed wooden cot, a still-sturdy butcher’s table under the window. The table is remarkably clean of dust, probably because the shutters on the window are long gone, letting in the rain and wind. 

Chris knows he’s letting himself linger on the details he noticed as soon as he stepped inside to avoid acknowledging that he’s far too aware of Lydia standing behind him, so close he can smell not just her perfume but the young woman underneath, the sweat of exertion from hiking here, a hint of some hair product he thinks his daughter uses, too. 

He can feel her warmth even though they are not touching; It should not be making him hard in his jeans, but it does. 

Lydia lets out a frustrated huff and brushes against him as she enters the cabin. “Now if I was part of a charm hidden by an alpha, where would I be?” 

Chris watches the sway of her hips, mesmerized. He can only tear his eyes away when she taps one manicured nail against her lips in contemplation and he’s served a vivid image of his own fingers replacing it, pulling those plush lips open so he can thrust his cock into the wet heat of her mouth.

As he watches her, Lydia shivers from head to toe and lets out a little sound that goes straight into his dick, gets him rest of the way to hard. She turns to look at him, eyes gone wide and dark with arousal. 

Chris has no illusions of being a good man; he knows that if she is for whatever reason going to offer this to him, here and now, he is going to _take_ \- his patience is limited, and if Lydia thinks she can tease and tempt without consequence, she’s very much mistaken. 

“Is it hot in here?” She asks him, blinking slowly. “I think it’s hot. Too hot.” She’s frowning a little. “Unseasonably hot. And poison ivy doesn’t grow in California.” 

Shit. She’s right - there’s something going on here, something more than Lydia being a little tease who thinks she can play with fire, thinks Chris is going to just let her have her way like all those little boys that pant after her do. 

Chris blinks rapidly, trying to clear his mind. It’s no use; he’s still hard, he’s breathing heavier than before, his heart rate up when it shouldn’t and he can’t push it back, can’t force his body to obey. Something is gnawing away at his iron-clad control, threatening to release all those urges he keeps at bay. 

Lydia makes another sound and shimmies in place; Chris can see her thighs rub together under her skirt, can see the outline of her nipples through her shirt and bra, pebbling despite the heat. “Mr. Argent -” 

Again, he’s reminded of that time she’d tried to serve herself up on his daughter’s bed, all pouting lips and curvy hips. He knows it’s not appropriate, even if she’s no longer underage, he should not be stepping forward, should not be reaching out to twine his fingers in her hair. 

It’s not a compulsion; he has no excuse, no matter how hot his blood is running; it’s all him when he gathers her hair in his fist and yanks her head back. 

Her mouth falls open and he can see her pulse rabbiting on her throat, the color high on her cheeks; she _whimpers_ , back arching to relieve the pressure on her scalp and that’s enough to have her perfect little tits brushing his chest. 

Well, not so little. When Chris moves to cup one, it fills his palm perfectly, the thin fabric of her shirt catching on the calluses on his thumb as he strokes over the nipple. 

“You’ve been asking for this for a long time,” he says roughly. “It’s time you deliver, little girl.” 

Lydia’s lips twist into a smile - a smug, confident one despite how hot she is for him. She lifts her hand to cup his face, to stroke his beard. “Oh, Chris - “

She has to get on her tiptoes to kiss him, to press her mouth eagerly on his, lips. She’s all soft curves pressing against him, the scent of her hair filling his nose, and he can feel her lips curving against his as she smirks into the kiss. 

Chris will have none of it. She yelps when he grabs her wrist, when he twists her hand behind her back. 

“You don’t make the rules here, Lydia.” he watches her tremble in helpless arousal. “You call me Mr. Argent. Or,” he adds, his lips twisting into a grin that he knows is more wolfish than it should, “you can call me Daddy.” 

Lydia struggles against his grip but it’s inefficient, for show - he knows Allison has trained her better, knows she could always _scream_. It’s far too easy to use a zip tie to restrain her, wrists together at the small of her back. 

“That’s better,” he says as he strokes a thumb over her tender skin, makes sure the ties aren’t too tight. Lydia is breathing heavily, but Chris can tell some of it is for show, with the way she’s angling herself, trying to get his attention back to her breasts, back to what she thinks is her best asset. 

Chris indulges her. He rips her flimsy shirt open right in the middle, buttons flying everywhere. She yelps, trying to get away but he’s got a solid hold of her and she can only squirm when he hooks his finger into her pretty lace bra and pulls it down till her tits fall out, nicely on display. 

“Be glad I’m not cutting it off,” he tells her as he palms her breast, feels the tip harden further against his palm. “You love showing these off, don’t you?” 

She doesn’t answer; he tightens his hold, scrapes a nail over her nipple. “I asked you a question, Lydia.” 

“Yes!” she says quickly. “I like showing - showing my tits off.” 

“Yes what?” Chris asks, thumb and forefinger circling the reddened nub as he pulls her closer, lets her squirm against his body. She’s not as hot as a wolf but she’s soft, the curve of her ass inviting him to move his hips, brush his erection against her. 

She closes her eyes and shivers; her voice is quiet when she speaks. “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” Chris’s grin shows teeth. 

The table is only a few steps away; she doesn’t struggle when he leads her over, when he sits her on the edge and spreads her creamy thighs. If anything, her eyes darken with lust and there’s no resistance as he runs his hands up her thighs, calloused thumbs trailing on the inside until they disappear under her skirt and find her _dripping._

Lydia whines and wiggles, back arching and hips trying to lift off the table in an obvious plea for something more - she’s smart enough to not to speak up, not to beg out loud and Chris feels another pulse of desire go through his spine. Before he’s done with her she’ll know not to toy with men like Chris, men who are only as good as they’re being told to be. 

He pushes her skirt up to her waist, her tiny little lace panties revealed. They barely cover anything, soaked through as they are. He could rip them off easy, bare her to his eyes with nothing between his gaze and her tight little cunt, not even a wisp of red hair. 

“Were you thinking of getting fucked when you got dressed?” he asks her almost conversationally. “When you pulled a sluttly little scrap of lace on?” 

She shakes her head and squirms a little, but her tone is smug and insincere. “No, Daddy.”

“Really now?” Chris raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t thinking about how they frame your pussy? How flimsy they are, so easy for someone to just rip off?” he slides a finger along the edge of the lace, feels her tense in anticipation. “Not even take them off, just slide them to the side and fuck you just like this.” 

He steps closer, pushes her thighs further apart. There's a part of him that wants to do just that, wants to just pull his dick out and fuck her hard; blood rushes through his ears with the intensity of that thought, but Chris has been fighting his desire to bend little Lydia Martin over for years. He is going to take his time and _enjoy_ this. 

“Were you thinking about one of your little boys, Lydia? Were you thinking about sneaking around the school, letting them cop a feel under your skirt? Catch a glimpse of something forbidden? Only, you would give it up to them, let them bend you over and _use_ you.” 

She shakes her head, her expression crumbling as Chris’s hand slips under the lace, slides over her wet lips. He teases her with feather-light strokes, fingers dipping low to press against her asshole and _that_ gets a reaction; Lydia cries out, tries to close her legs and pull away, her eyes wide with not-quite fear.

“What’s the matter?” Chris asks as he presses on, holds her in place as he uses her own slick to ease a fingertip into her ass. “Never let one of those boys fuck you in the ass? Never had someone just flip you over and _take_ , did you?”

He doesn’t let her answer. “You’ve been bossing schoolboys around but make no mistake, Lydia, you are going to take what I give and _love_ it.” 

Lydia whines and squirms, tries to pull away from him. “Daddy no please- “

“Answer me, Lydia,” Chris chides as he takes hold of her chin, forces her to meet his eyes. “Has anyone fucked this ass yet?” 

Her eyes are dark with want and she licks her lips before she speaks. “No, Daddy.” 

Something dark and possessive wells up inside Chris at her words, an archaic desire to possess, to conquer. His grin shows teeth even as his cock throbs in his jeans, the desire to be the first to take her, to _wreck_ her burning hot in his core. He lets his finger press in deeper, all the way to the first knuckle; he can feel her cunt throb against his palm, begging for the attention he’s denied her. 

She whines when he pulls his hand free of her panties, the sound turning into a surprised cry as he pulls her up on unsteady feet, only to turn her around and push her down, face first. She squirms uncomfortably, her cheek pressed against the wood, her toes barely brushing the floor. 

Her skirt is still rucked up at her waist, her pale ass uncovered but for the barest scrap of lace but not for long; her panties slide down her legs easy, hobbling her at the knees. 

Again, Chris feels a surge of lust, feels the desire to just fuck her itching just beneath his skin. He could so easily just pull his cock out and slide inside her cunt, fuck her like none of those little boys have. He’d bet his Desert Eagle she’d never let one of them fill her up, never let anyone fuck her bare until now. 

Chris slides a hand up the inside of her thigh, slick with her arousal. She whimpers when he brushes against her swollen cunt, tries to buck her hips up towards his hand, desperate for contact. 

For that, she earns a stinging slap across her ass. “Behave,” he tells her even as she moans, the red mark from his hand hot against her pale skin. It looks good on her so he smacks her again twice in quick succession, her breath hitching every time his palm meets the flesh. 

“You like being spanked do you?” he rumbles as he rubs his hand over her heated flesh, feels her tremble under his touch. “You’d love it if I just put you over my knee, Daddy’s naughty little girl.” 

“Please, Daddy,” she whines and the sound strokes a fire along his spine, has him spreading her cheeks open to reveal the tight little hole he wants to plunder. 

“You’re going to be so tight for Daddy, baby girl,” he murmurs as he tests her with his thumb, her body tensing at the touch. That won’t do - he doesn’t want to _hurt_ her, not like that. 

Chris isn’t sure if he has something on him, if there’s still a packet of silicone lube in his pocket, but he’s fucked virgins on spit and precome before. He knows what he’s doing when he leans in, when he nips at the swell of her buttock and makes her wail before he licks right across the pink pucker. 

It’s clear none of the boys she’s been with has ever put their mouth here, hasn’t fucked her ass with their tongue as she rode their faces. She whimpers, her body twisting as if she doesn’t know if she wants more or to get away from him so he tightens his hold of her hips, pins her on the table as he gets her hole wet and loose. 

It’s no surprise she starts bucking against his hold, tries to tilt her hips; the scratch of his beard against her cunt must be maddening when she’s so turned on, when she’s so desperate to be touched like she’s used to. 

“Please,” she’s whining high in her throat, her body twisting around the table but she has no leverage to push up, no way of getting his mouth on her cunt but his whim. “Daddy please…”

“Please what?” he murmurs and nips at the tender skin of her ass, leaving behind a mark. “Want Daddy to give it to you? Fuck your virgin ass?” 

She shakes her head almost violently, “No, Daddy, please lick my pussy Daddy, lick my clit, I want to come, I need to come, damn you-” 

That won’t do. Chris shakes his head even though she can’t see it and straightens up, looming over her. “That’s not how good girls talk to Daddy, Lydia.” 

She makes a sound like an alley cat when he spanks her hard, yowling and thrashing as he lays several slaps on her ass and thighs, one hand at the small of her back keeping her pinned on the table. There’s tears leaking on her face as she whimpers and cries, trying to get away from him. 

He pauses to swipe his fingers over her cunt and finds her dripping wet; her whimpers turn needy again and she bucks against his hand, trying to get more.

“Daddy please I’m sorry I’ll be good,” she cranes her neck trying to look at him, licks her lips where the red lipstick still remains. There’s a glint in her eyes that tells him she’s not _that_ sorry, that she’s enjoying the flat of his hand on her ass far too much for it to be an effective punishment. 

He files that for later and instead presses his wet fingers against her spit-slick asshole, feels it giving in under the firm pressure and opening up to swallow the tips of his fingers. 

“Have you ever put your fingers in here, Lydia?” He asks her softly as he rubs at her hole, feels how hot and tight she is. 

She shakes her head, red hair finally come loose of its braid and spreading over her like a strawberry blonde halo. “Y- yes, Daddy,” 

“And how did it feel?” he barely bites off an endearment that has no place here. 

“It felt - it felt good, Daddy,” she moans and he can feel her body tremble with the effort to not to buck into his touch. 

As she tells him about how she touched herself, how she slid a dildo into her hungry little pussy and fingered her own ass, he reaches into the pocket of his pants. It takes a minute but finally his fingers close around a packet of silicone lube; he’s gotten into the habit of keeping some on him at all times, unwilling to waste time on looking for something slick in the heat of the moment. 

The sound of the package tearing open has her tense; he runs a hand over her back to soothe her like a frightened animal as he slicks up his fingers with the cold lube and presses them against her hole. 

“Relax, baby girl,” he tells her as he lets two of his fingers sink inside her, slowly but surely. She’s as tight and hot as any human virgin, her back arching at the unfamiliar intrusion. This is the first time he’s gone deeper than the second knuckle and she whimpers, her shoulders shaking against the table as he slowly rotates his fingers to get her ready for his cock.

By the time he eases the fourth finger into her she’s moaning and struggling not to plead with him, to not to beg him to fuck her already; she’s panting shallowly, pupils dilated, her thighs glistening with wetness that didn’t come from a package. 

Chris thinks about it, thinks about sliding his dick inside her, getting it wet with her juices before he takes her ass. But, he thinks, she might come just from that, form having his thick cock fill her tight little cunt and he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want her coming just yet. 

He undoes his flies one-handed, feels her shudder as she hears the rasp of the zipper sliding down, the sound of his belt unbuckling; He moves to steady her even as his lube-slick hand curls around his cock and he has to bite back a hiss at _finally_ having some relief. 

Chris feels almost dizzy for a moment, his skin two sizes too small as the desire rises inside him, makes his blood burn with the need to be inside her _now_ , to fuck, to take, to _breed_. It’s a thought he pushes aside, compartmentalizes with decades of skill as he slicks his cock with the remains of the lube. 

“That’s it, baby girl, just relax,” Chris murmurs as he palms her ass, spreads her open; he can't suppress a hiss when he presses the tip of his cock against her hole and feels the way it flutters, like it’s trying to suck him in. 

“Daddy-” Lydia whines, and _fuck_ she’s trying to spread her legs wider but she’s caught at the knees by her panties, by the weight of Chris’s knee pressing into the back of her thigh. 

Chris hushes her as he starts to push in, the broad head of his cock slowly sinking into her butter-soft ass. “Daddy’s going to give it to you, baby.”

“Please,” she’s panting, her body fighting not to tense at the invasion. “Pop my cherry, Daddy?” 

There’s a note of insolence in her voice but fuck, she’s squeezing around him like a vise despite all the lube, despite taking four of his fingers and Chris can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s sinking inside her. 

Lydia’s breath hitches as he presses on; he has the presence of mind to go slowly, to let her adjust to having a cock in her ass. He slides in inch by inch until he’s in her, balls deep, before he leans in to brace himself on the table. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” He murmurs into her ear, body stretched over hers as he fights the urge to just slam into her, over and over again till she’s full of his seed, till he’s made her beg. 

“It’s so big, Daddy,” Lydia whines, squirming underneath him. “Please, Daddy- you’re so big.” 

“Is that what you told all those boys who fucked you?” Chris nips at her earlobe. 

“No, Daddy,” Lydia whispers and her eyes flutter shut. “Only you.”

And Chris doesn’t need to have his ego stroked, he knows he’s not lacking, but nevertheless it still goes into his gut, into that place where the desire to _wreck_ Lydia nestles. 

“That’s right, baby,” he tells her as he starts to move and fuck, it feels like her ass doesn’t want to let go as he pulls back, lets only the tip remain inside her, eliciting another whimper from her as he teases her hole with the thick head, feels that hungry clench. “This is what you’ve been craving, Daddy’s cock filling you up. None of those little boys could make you come like this, couldn’t make you come just from being fucked in the ass like a slut.” 

“Your slut, Daddy,” she whimpers and Chris can’t hold back a groan, can’t keep from slamming back in and making her _scream_ as his cock cleaves into her. She’s shaking around him and he can feel how wet she still is, how close to gushing all over herself just from this. 

She’s practically wailing, trying to buck against his thrusts, her pleas half for more, half for him to stop because he’s too big, it feels too good - he’s got Lydia Martin reduced to incoherence and _that’s_ what has him thrusting forward again and again, fucking her in earnest. 

Chris grits his teeth as he plows into her, heat boiling under his skin; he can feel his balls starting to tingle, the familiar rhythm of spilling himself inside a tight ass. He knows he’s close to coming, close to filling her up with his seed. 

He thinks about pulling out, about sinking into her wet cunt instead; she would scream at being forced open on his thick cock, with no fingers or tongue to prepare the way no matter how sopping wet she is. He can almost see it now, the way she’s whimper and cry, her white teeth biting into her plush lips and fuck, he knows now what he wants. 

His thrusts become harsher and Lydia wails, her body rocking against the unforgiving wood. Her nipples must be scraped raw by it but Chris doesn’t care as he pounds into her, her cries raising to a fever pitch until suddenly she’s clenching tight around him, body going rigid as she screams out his name, screams out “Daddy!” as she comes just from taking his cock in her ass. 

Chris doesn’t slow down as he fucks her through her orgasm, her body rippling around him as he chases his own pleasure. It’s not until he can feel his balls tighten, can feel fire gathering at the pit of his belly that he pulls out all the way and takes a step back. 

She looks positively obscene; her ass is still red from being spanked, her hole still gaping slick with lube after being stretched around his cock. He can see how her pussy is still throbbing, red and swollen and soaked wet, framed by her pale thighs. He has to grip the base of his cock to not to come, to not to spill himself all over her pretty holes. 

Lydia yelps when he grabs her by her bound arms and pulls her off the table; she sways on her feet, can’t stay up but that doesn’t matter because he pushes her down on her knees and tilts her face up. 

Her eyes are wide and wet, glazed with pleasure, makeup streaking down her cheeks. Her lips still have a trace of lipstick on them as he runs his thumb over her plush lower lip, tells her to open her mouth for Daddy. 

“Yes, Daddy,” her voice is rough as she, tilts her head back, pink little tongue coming out to wet her lips. 

“Good girl,” he grunts and takes hold of himself. He’s still so keyed up from fucking her it doesn’t take much, barely a handful of strokes before he’s coming, cock pulsing in his hands as he paints her face with his seed as pleasure rakes down his spine, unfolds in his gut. 

He’s not sure how he expected Lydia to react but the greedy little noise she makes when his come mostly misses her mouth takes him by surprise; she’s almost _pouting_ , come dripping from her cheeks to trail down between her tits, a little clinging to her lashes. 

“Did you want Daddy to come in your mouth?” he asks her, voice rough as he slowly gets his breathing under control.

“Yes, Daddy,” she flutters her sticky lashes at him. “Please Daddy can I lick you clean?”

And he shouldn’t be surprised but he’s not; Her skirt is still rucked up and he watches as she wiggles in place, tries to rub her legs together, and even though he just came, even though he knows he ought to be spent for another half an hour at least, he’s feeling the desire for her stirring again. 

Chris reaches out to swipe his thumb over her cheek and shoves it in her mouth and she moans, sucking on it like a pro, cheeks hollowing as she draws the digit in her mouth. 

“You’re going to clean Daddy up, baby girl,” he tells her as he pulls his thumb out and nudges his hips forward, brushing the wet head of his cock against her lips. “You’re going to use that pretty whore mouth of yours to get me hard again.” 

She takes him in eagerly, her lips stretching over his cock obscenely; she does as she’s told, moaning as her tongue laps against the head of his cock, trying to catch every last trace of come that isn’t splattered on her skin. 

“Come hungry little slut,” he murmurs as he grips her hair, wraps her long red tresses around his hand. “You wish I’d let you swallow it all, don’t you? You want Daddy to fill you up with his come.”

The noise Lydia makes around his cock sounds a lot like _yes, daddy_ and Chris grins, showing teeth as he lets her work, lets her clever tongue work him back into hardness. 

It takes far less time than it should, his heart rate stays up and his skin feels hot all over, too hot for this time of the year even as he takes a moment to shrug off his jacket and lets it fall on the floor. She doesn’t stop sucking on him, her cheeks hollowing around as he grows hard and heavy in her mouth as he takes hold of her hair and guides her to take him deeper. 

When his cock brushes the back of her throat she gags; he doesn’t pull back immediately, lets her throat massage the head for a few seconds before he withdraws, lets her look up at him through tears. 

“Never took a cock in your throat, baby girl?” he asks her even though he knows the answer, can see the apprehension on her face. 

She shakes her head. “No, Daddy.” 

“You’d just suck their little dicks like they were lollipops, didn’t you? You sat on their faces, let them lick your pussy and make you come but none of them could give you what you really need.” He watches as her eyes glaze over with every word watches how she tries to rub her thighs together to relieve the ache he knows is building in her core. 

He’s almost fully hard now and he rubs the tip of his cock against her lips. “Did you ever eat a girl out, Lydia? Did anyone ever shove your face into their cunt and demand the same from you as you demand from boys?” 

Lydia flushes scarlet, “No, Daddy,” but she looks down, avoids his gaze. She’s not lying, but she’s avoidant, and that gives him ideas. 

“But you wanted them to,” Chris surmises as he tilts his hips, lets the head of his cock press on her tongue, stifling a hiss when she laps at it. “Was it Allison?”

He doesn’t let her respond with words, the way her eyes widen, her thighs clench together is answer enough. Chris knows he shouldn’t bring Allison into this, should be appalled and horrified at the idea that the girl sucking his cock is Allison’s friend, younger than his daughter. The thought that Lydia might have touched Allison like this should make his blood run cold and not make him press on. 

“Did you do more than sleep when you came to spend the night, baby girl? Did you wear your naughty little panties hoping she’d see your cunt?”

And Lydia nods, she fucking _nods_ and Chris bites back a groan at the thought. He rocks his hips forward and drives into Lydia’s mouth, into her throat and she’s choking around him, choking on his cock as his mind is assailed by pictures of Lydia and Allison wrapped around each other.

Tears stream down her face as he hits the back of her throat and it’s close that Chris doesn’t just let go, doesn’t just hold her by the hair and fuck her face till he’s coming down her bruised throat. It takes immense effort to pull back, to let her gasp for breath, for enough air to speak up when he grabs her chin and forces her to look him in the eye. 

“What did you do with Allison, baby girl?” 

“We - we kissed, Daddy,” Lydia’s face is flushed, eyes dark with lust. “We felt each other up a little.” 

And he can picture it so clearly, Allison’s bow-calloused fingers toying with Lydia’s fat nipples, the breathless little moans as his girls kissed each other in Allison’s bed.

“She touched my panties,” Lydia sounds so shy, blinking rapidly as she looks up at him, her face shiny with drool and come. 

“Did she get you wet?” Chris’s voice is gruff as he pictured it, pictures Allison’s pale hand pressing against Lydia’s cunt, teasing her little clit through the thin fabric. “Did she make you come?” 

Lydia blushes again and nods. “Yes, Daddy, she - she rubbed my pussy till I came.” 

Chris knows he’s going to hell even before he pictures it, pictures Lydia’s face as his daughter got her off. “And did you make her come?” He asks her, voice rough. 

Lydia shakes her head. “No, Daddy. She - she fell asleep.” 

Chris clucks his tongue. “You’re going to have to make it up to her.” 

She moans, a full body shudder going through her at his words. He watches her squirm, watches her rub her thighs together and before he can think he’s yanking her up from the floor and lifting her up on the edge of the table. 

“I’ve fucked your ass and your mouth, baby girl,” he tells her as he reaches down to pull what’s left of her panties off all the way so he can spread her legs wide open. “You know what will happen next.”

“You’re going to fuck my pussy, Daddy,” Lydia’s eyes are dark with lust, her words coming out in sharp little pants. 

“That’s right, Lydia,” Chris runs his thumb over the seam of the lips and lifts it to his mouth, licks the taste of her arousal from his skin. Her eyes are glued on his mouth and he knows she thinks he’s going to eat her out first, use his fingers and tongue to get her ready. 

She’s wrong. 

Lydia _screams_ when he slams inside her, his cock breaching into her cunt in one harsh thrust. He doesn’t give her a chance to adjust, doesn't pause to let her get used to being spread open and fucked hard. 

He’s gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise as he drives into her, groaning at how fucing _wet_ she is around him, the slick noise of flesh meeting flesh louder than her moans. 

“You were made for this,” he tells her, a particularly vicious thrust drawing a cry from her, her back arching so her bare breasts are on display; he bends his head to bite at the soft swell, to leave a mark that will last longer than the come coating her skin. “Made to be fucked, to be used.”

“Daddy,” She whines, “Daddy please-” 

Chris ignores her moans and lets go of her thigh to grab her around the waist, to pull her deeper on his cock. “You were made- made to be bred.” 

Lydia’s eyes fly open and she keens, body trembling in need; he can feel her pulse around his cock with every stroke, can feel how primed she is for this, for being filled with his seed. 

“You’ve never been fucked bare,” Chris murmurs, a tug on her hair baring her neck to him. He’s no wolf but it still sends a dark thrill through him, makes the pit of his belly clench when he bites at the junction of neck and shoulder, makes her cry out. “Have you, Lydia? Did you make all those boys wrap it up before they used you? “ 

“Yes, Daddy,” she pats and tilts her head to the side to offer more of her neck to him. “No one’s - no one’s bred me.” 

Chris groans at her words, has to slow down his thrusts. “You were made for it,” he tells her as he grinds into her, slow and deep. “Made to take a cock in you, have a man’s seed planted deep in your belly. None of those boys knew what you’re really good for, didn’t see these-” and he grabs her breast, squeezes it hard enough to bruise “Getting big with milk when your belly swells with a babe.” 

“Daddy please,” she whimpers, her green eyes wide and bright with lust, “Give me your seed, Daddy, put a baby in me, fill my slutty pussy with your come-” 

Chris snaps his hips forward and she wails, head thrown back as he picks up speed, hammering into her wet cunt. “Going to fill you till you’re dripping with it, baby girl,” his voice is close to a growl. “Going to pump your tight little cunt full of my come until it takes.” 

“Daddy,” she whines and Chris swears when she tries to wrap a leg around him tries to pull him closer, deeper. 

It takes only a moment for him to get a blade in his hand; her eyes flash with fear and then she’s crying out when he cuts the zip tie and yanks her hands free, the knife clattering off the table in his hurry. 

She gasps when he pushes her down, when he hitches her leg up on his hip and _drives_ into her, the sound soon becoming a series of hitched moans, her body twitching in anticipation with every brutal thrust of his cock. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed you, Lydia,” he murmurs and bites at her ear. “You’re my little slut now, and I’m gonna keep you, keep you full of come and bred up-” 

Lydia screams as she comes, body arching off the table as her cunt ripples around him, as she tries to milk his cock; Chris swears , the desire to just _give_ it to her sizzling through his spine as he fucks her though her orgasm relentlessly, giving her no quarter. 

She goes limp beneath him, her body lax and his for the taking; she whimpers softly when Chris slows down just for a moment, just long enough to lift her legs over his shoulders till she’s almost bent in half. Her eyes flutter open and meet his, lust bright and wide as he starts to move again, unable to stop himself from fucking into her. 

He’s not sure if she’s begging him to stop or for more, the heavy weight of need spurring him on, the need to fuck, to breed, to _take_ her and mark her up as his so there will be no question of it, the wolves will smell his come on her, in her, will scent how he’s bred her. 

Chris can feel his balls tighten and he surges forward, sinking his teeth in her shoulder as he comes. His cock flexes inside her as he pumps into her, every pulse of come that splashes inside her feeling like it’s ripped from his very soul as her cunt milks her, Lydia’s body writhing through another orgasm. 

He barely avoids collapsing on top of her, arms trembling as he braces himself over her. He’s intimately aware of how close their faces are, of the sudden clarity in her eyes as the dark desire that’s been clouding his head starts to recede, leaving behind the reality of what he has done.

Fuck, he’s still _inside_ her, his spent cock still twitching. 

Chris ruthlessly quells how good it feels, how warm her quivering pussy is around him as he pulls out abruptly, takes a step back away from her. He doesn’t know what to say, regret and anger at himself throbbing behind his eyes. How could he have been so weak, so susceptible?

“Lydia, I’m-” he tries to get an apology out, not sure if she’ll want to hear anything he has to say, not after...

“Wow.” Lydia’s voice is languid as she sits up slowly, stretching her arms above her head, her breasts swaying with the motion. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Mr. Argent.” 

Chris blinks. That was _not_ the response he’d expected. 

Lydia smirks at him and dips a hand between her legs; Chris is powerless to avert his eyes, despite the fact that he knows they’re no longer under the influence, that there’s no longer a - lust spell, a herb, something in the air compelling them to fuck. 

He stays transfixed as her hand comes back up, glistening with come; she makes a satisfied little sound when her tongue flicks out to taste, to clean their mixed release from her fingers. “Mm. Good thing I’m on the pill. That was _hot_.” 

She notices his silence and tits her head imperiously. “That wasn’t poison ivy. It’s sex pollen.” 

Chris has no idea how she can be so matter-of-fact about it. “Lydia…”

“It got us both. I enjoyed myself, did you?” 

And Chris can’t deny it, no matter how much he wants to; that whatever the sex pollen was, it tapped into something in his core, something dark and terrible he keeps in check. He knows he’s not a good man. 

Lydia’s smirk is achingly familiar. “I’m sticky. Will you come here and lick me clean… Daddy?” 

_Fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> Title of this story comes from the Madonna song, Papa Don't Preach
> 
> The referenced Allydia and referenced incest tags are for a scene where Chris asks Lydia if she's ever been with a girl, and if that girl was Allison. Chris is aroused by the idea of Lydia and Allison together, even though he knows it's inappropriate.


End file.
